Sun and Moon
by DasMervin
Summary: His first instinct upon seeing the light shining though the door was to hiss and shy away. Instead, he stepped into the light.


Disclaimer: I do not own anything having to do with Hellsing—it is the property of Kohta Hirano.

Title: Sun and Moon

Rating: PG-13, just for the first part. It may be a little unpleasant, so I took no chances.

A/N: Greetings. This fic popped into my head and began to beat my brain until I burped it out of my ear. It may be classified as pointless, but it could also be classified as a look from the other point of view. You'll understand what I mean at the end.

* * *

_Pain._

That was all there was. Excruciating, unbearable, all-consuming pain. Pain so intense he could not hear his own screams. In fact, the more he screamed, the more it intensified. His limbs thrashed wildly—claws dug deeply into his own skin, ripping long gashes into them. The self-inflicted wounds did not take any of his mind off of the intense, mind-numbing pain radiating through him—he did not even feel them.

Wave after wave of pain. It did not stop. He was being consumed—the day orb was eating him alive. It was there before his eyes, burning brightly, glaring down at him like the eye of a vengeful god. He howled as it bore down upon him, tendrils of flame lashing out at him and sinking deep into him. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to stop his screams of pain, of fury, of humiliation. His eyelids did not prevent that sphere from shining through—red light engulfed his vision instead of black darkness. It grew brighter and brighter until that globe of fire pressed down upon him and sucked him straight into its center.

His back arched upwards—his entire frame was engulfed. He was dying—surely this was dying. He'd walked the thin line between life and death for centuries—now he was falling from it. He was being cast into the pit of Hell. Nothing else could burn with this heat but Hell.

Flame and light lashed out at his body, raking and clawing his body. He screamed—it was all he could do now. He could not move, he could not think, he could not open his eyes. There was nothing there but screams. He screamed as that heat forced its way into him. He screamed as those tentacles of fire raped him, violated him. He screamed.

And then it was gone. All of it. The pain. The heat. The day orb. Gone. His eyes rolled backwards. All went black.

* * *

Voices were around him. All familiar—all stirred that dull hatred he was becoming accustomed to and learning to use to his advantage. Slowly, he cracked his eyes open.

He was still on that accursed slab, still chained to it. His hair hung limply in front of his face, obscuring the view of the small, dark room.

"Total success. The ultimate test will be, of course, in about an hour and twenty-six minutes, but I am 99.9 positive that it will come back with the results we wanted."

"How can you be so positive?"

"Because he's still alive—as much as he can be, anyway. Failure would've meant a small pile of ashes. Quite obviously, he is not. Success."

"What about the mental state? What will have done? The last experiment proved that they do have an affect on his sanity."

"More than likely he'll be even more barmy than he already is—any mind simply cannot take that much pain and stay completely neutral. But his unruliness won't change—I understand he's been like that since the beginning. It's his nature."

"But the insanity will not affect his performance on the battle field?"

"Yes, actually, it will—he'll be even more effective in the sense that he'll eliminate forces with much more fervor."

He bored of their conversation—he'd heard it before. He wanted to close his eyes again. He had absolutely no energy—he closed his eyes once more.

* * *

"Alucard. Wake up. Now."

It was a direct order, and he could not disobey it. He did awaken. His eyes opened immediately.

He was on the slab, but it had been leaned back again and his bonds were gone. He slowly sat up, his hair falling carelessly in front of his eyes again. That was more like it—it wasn't limp and lifeless. His power was back.

"Master," he sneered, flexing his fingers a little and running his fingers over the spots his claws had been.

"Put your gloves back on," his Master responded tersely, setting them down next to him. He mock-bowed, picking them both up and slipping them on. He grimaced a little as that familiar tightening encased his whole body. When it faded, he slowly slid off the table and onto the ground. Cracking his neck a little, he spared his Master an impudent grin.

"We're going outside," his Master said before turning and walking for the door. "Don't get dressed yet, either."

"And deny your wife a chance to see what she could have had? Heaven forbid," he drawled. His Master did not rise to the bait; he was becoming very accustomed to the Servant's constant picking. He merely paused at the door and waited for him to catch up.

He did—his lithe, lanky form glided across the room, black hair swaying of its own accord. The Servant did not mind his nakedness—he was very aware of his beauty and loved any opportunity he was given to flaunt it. He moved deliberately across the room, his natural grace stirring slight traces of envy in his Master. The Servant smirked and slithered past his Master. His Master soon followed.

"Wait for a moment," he said after a silent walk. Carefully, he unlocked the door, the out-of-date deadbolt screeching with protest. The door opened slowly, creaking with disuse.

His first instinct upon seeing the light shining though the door—that bright puddle of heat spilling across the floor and lapping near his feet—was to hiss and shy away. However, he knew Master would only taunt him, and he preferred to keep that privilege to himself. He took a step into the light.

He grimaced—it was hot. That he didn't like. He'd never liked heat—and this was even hotter than the norm. But still he moved forward. The light moved past his knees, past his thighs. His pale skin glowed under the intense light. It slid up his abdomen, up his chest—it encased his arms and his shoulders. That same light slowly made its way up his neck, his chin.

He squinted as the light hit his eyes. Hissing a little, he resisted the urge to hold up his hand and block that horrible light. He was more curious about it than he cared to admit. He stared directly at it.

So that was what all the day-walkers spoke of—that bright, ugly thing in a pale, frilly sky. The day was completely tasteless—white blobs of clouds dotted a pale, unattractive, _bright_ sky. And then the center-piece of it all—he couldn't even bear looking at it for very long it was so bright. The moon was beautiful and could be admired for hours at a time. The darkness of night concealed the hideous forms of clouds and turned them into beautiful shapes of gray, black, and blue. Stars would pinprick the sky like diamonds—what did this blue bowl have? Badly formed puffballs and a ball of heat.

"That is the sun. And now you can walk in it. Total success," his Master said, staring at his pale form illuminated so brightly. He turned from the sun and stared at his Master.

"The moon is preferable—this is just unbearable. It's hot and bright. I don't like it," he answered blandly.

"The experiment was done so you could walk in it, not so you could like it," his Master shot back.

"Just as it was done so I could walk in it—that does not mean I necessarily will," he retorted. His Master said nothing—he simply looked from his Servant to the sun again.

"Having said that, I have had enough of it. It is hot, uncomfortable, and terribly bright," he continued. He turned and slipped back inside and out of the sunshine. His Master followed.

"I thought for sure you would be curious as to what it looked like," his Master said, letting him back into the laboratory. The Servant snorted.

"Of course I was. I desired to know just what it was that captivated so many humans—I desired to know what it was about the sun that made it so appealing when the night has so many glaring advantages over it. I wanted to perhaps be given an explanation as to why humans act so foolish," he sneered, sliding slowly into his clothes. His Master watched him dress himself, eyes completely neutral.

"I believe the advantage of being able to walk in both worlds makes up for the shortcomings we have in your eyes," he answered.

Alucard grinned viciously. "Not anymore."

* * *

There we go. Sorry if it's bad—my beta was busy so I had to do it myself. Eek. Anyways, thanks for reading and tolerating my bad writing 'til the end. Review if you like, tell me what you liked and didn't like. Theeenks, bye bye! 


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